Xerostomia
the Sahara is 3.5 million square miles
it has nothing on my mouth.
my mouth is a gated expanse.
its balusters composed
of yellowed bone.
i’m not this way on purpose.
when i was young
sand filled my mouth.
as i grew the grains
turned to stars.
they stick to the roof of my mouth,
immolate every toothsome word.
a foreign tongue
slithers in this desert.
it rattles inside the dry heat.
a popcorn kernel chipped my
front tooth and now i can whistle.
that is why the night howls
and that is why a little light gets through.
my mouth is so old and so hot
that all the words have dried up.
one day i will have a new mouth
and with it i will speak
words that you have never heard
but when you hear them you will know me
because words are the mirages
of the deserts in which they shimmer.
Comments
Icky and unpleasant, but in a
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